 | The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere |  |
SAINT ANASTASIA AT AQUILEIA.
(DIED A.D. 304.)
I
Ocean, anew creatingOld harmonies;
Ether, star-germinating
While daylight dies;
Sunset, but lately firing
The city towers, and still
In crimson flame expiring
On yonder snow-capped hill:
Far peaks, and cliffs that shiver
In golden mist, henceforth
O lure no more forever
My spirit back to earth!
155
II
Moored is at last our galley:Our pilgrimage is o'er:
But not for us yon valley;
And not for us that shore!
The cymbals from the city
Shake the water like a breath—
Chant we in turn one ditty,
O Martyr Maids, ere death!
O people, who can teach thee
That joy to earth unknown?
O Saviour, who can preach Thee?—
Not words, but death alone!
III
Mother! Ah, twice, my mother,Thou gav'st me Christ! This day
I thank thee, and that other
My childhood's staff and stay.
How oft when trial pressed me
And earthly hope was none,
That more than father blessed me
And said, ‘Poor child, strive on.’
He prayed for me; he cherished:
He gained me strength to win:
Through him the tyrant perished
That tempted me to sin.
IV
Like a Seraph in its fleetnessMy life above me flew:
Its sorrow past, its sweetness
Falls back on me as dew.
156
I bring the Christians bread:
They have raised their heads: they listen:
Sweet souls, ye know my tread!
The children hide their faces
In an unmaternal breast:
And, warmed in my embraces,
Young mothers, too, find rest.
V
Once more, the Forum pacingIts temples I behold,
As they stand the sun outfacing
With their marble and their gold:
I scorn them:—I am taken:—
I am judged to death once more:
Half-famished I awaken
On the cold, dark dungeon floor.
Chrysogonus! thou hast taught me
Once more to kiss my chain:
Theodora! thou hast brought me
Celestial food again!
VI
'Tis past. The dream is over,And the life that does but seem:
They are past; and I discover
The World too is a dream.
Its meaning, its consistence
From a higher world is caught;
Thy Will is its subsistence;
Its order is Thy Thought.
157
Yet it cannot fill man's heart:—
For what Thou art I praise Thee:
And I praise Thee that Thou art.
VII
Entering his own CreationTrue God true man became.
Who wrought the world's salvation?
‘Reedemer’ is His Name.
For each man death He tasted:
He died that Death might die:
Three days entombed He rested:
He rose into the sky.
Ne'er watched I spring flower waking
From its grave beneath the sod
But I saw that tombstone breaking,
And that Form ascend to God.
VIII
How oft in youthful slumberI saw all words ascend:
Unmeasured, without number,
Still up they seemed to tend!
Like angels interwoven
Up passed the shining choir
Through the black vault o'er them cloven:
And higher rose and higher.
Creation seemed a fountain
Sun-changed to heavenward mist:
But I knew the parent mountain
Was God; the sun was Christ.
158
IX
As one that, gold refining,Bends o'er the metal base
Till, purged by fire, and shining
It shews at last his face,
So God oft saw I clearing
By pain man's race from sin
Till—the perfect mirror sphering—
He, imaged, shone therein!
The city stays its revels:
The minstrel bands retire:
No sound o'er the sea-levels:
No light, save yonder pyre!
X
O wind, once more thou playestWith the palm-grove near the bay
Low words to us thou sayest
Of palms that live for aye.
That veil the ocean dimming
Brings the world of stars more near:
And the anthem they are hymning
In my spirit I can hear.
They sing, ‘Of dust partaker
Our wondrous world must die:
But our Master and our Maker
Lives on eternally.’
| The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | |